


No Place Like Home For The Holidays

by Cones_McMurphy



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Cookies, Fifteen Days of Drabbles, Gen, little simones - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 14:26:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2776349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cones_McMurphy/pseuds/Cones_McMurphy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint makes Christmas cookies with the Little Simones, Kate has nowhere else to go. For Caroline (oldmchawkeye)</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Place Like Home For The Holidays

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it's so late.

Clint frowned slightly at his kitchen. It was a complete disaster. Flour, dough, and icing was stuck to every surface, even (somehow) the ceiling. Baking Christmas cookies with the little Simones had been really, fun and all, but now it looked like a tornado had gone through. Clint groaned and ran a hand through his hair daring the universe to give him a reason to _not_ clean his kitchen. Apparently the universe was listening because in the next second Clint heard a knock at the door. He stubbed his toe on the couch on the way to door, and hopped the rest of the way. He swung open the door to reveal Kate, shivering, with snow stuck to her hair and puffy eyes like she’d been crying. “I can’t stay there any longer.”

“Kate, it’s been a day.” Kate just shrugged and pushed past him to the couch.

“You try living with my dad for more than an hour and then get back to me.” Clint sighed and closed the door.

“You want some Christmas cookies?” he asked, as he walked back across the apartment to the kitchen

“As long as they aren’t dog biscuits in disguise.”

“That was one time, Kate.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Clint rolled his eyes and grabbed the plate of cookies of the counter.

“So, I take it you want to stay the night?” Clint asked, setting the plate on the coffee table in front of her.

“Actually, I was hoping I could stay through Christmas?” Kate reached for a cookie and looked at Clint with big doe eyes, “I don’t want to go back to Jersey, and I _really_ don’t want to be alone.”

“Of course, Kate, you’re practically family anyway.”

“Thanks, Clint.”

“I have to clean up the mess from this afternoon, make yourself comfortable.” Clint walked back to the kitchen.

“Okay,” Kate nodded, “Oh, and Clint?”

Clint stopped, “Yeah?”

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Kate.”


End file.
